


Steve Rogers is Bisexual, Amen

by eden22



Series: Steve Rogers vs the Media [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Bisexual Character, Bisexuality, Coming Out, Gen, News Media, Party, Social Issues, Social Justice, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2661572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eden22/pseuds/eden22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All in all, coming out as bisexual was not what Steve Rogers had expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Major thanks, as always, to my beta, [slidingkinsey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/slidingkinsey/pseuds/slidingkinsey). All mistakes remaining are my own, characters don't belong to me, etc. 
> 
> Also, I realized that I have majorly fucked the MCU timeline with this verse, because I wanted Sam without the Bucky angst. So, lets say that Steve and Sam spent a lot more time becoming friends than they did in CATWS.

Khalida would later accuse Steve of trying to drive her into an early grave. He, of course, maintained that he was doing no such thing (she, however, had long ago given up any belief that Captain America was not a lying little troublemaker, and was strongly suspicious of any and all protestations of innocence that came out of his mouth). 

In all honesty, it had started well enough. While leaving his favourite coffee shop one day, apple-pecan muffin and obscenely huge, sugar-filled coffee frappe in hand – what, he needed the calories, he was absolutely not addicted, no problem here, no sir – he ran into the usual crowd of reporters that liked to stake out the shop. Amongst the flurry of questions they threw at him as soon as he stepped out of the door, one in particular caught his attention. 

“Captain America! What are your thoughts on same-sex marriage?” However, Steve was in a rush, and hurried past the group of reporters without pause.

Back at his flat, Steve ate his muffin slowly, picking it apart until it was just a pile of crumbs, slowly thinking things over. Then he pulled out his phone, dialing Khalida (because, despite her claims to the contrary, he wasn’t _actually_ aiming to give her a heart attack). Or at least, he wasn’t anymore. Kind of. Look, he was trying, okay?

“Khalida. There’s something I need to talk to you about – can we meet for a strategy session?”

“Steven Rogers. You mean you’re actually calling me to strategize _before_ whatever idiotic thing you’re going to do this time?” Steve smiled. 

“Yes ma’am.” She gasped dramatically over the line.

“I may faint.” Steve laughed. “Okay, come by my office in…” there was the sound of pages flipping, “say two hours? I’ll make sure there’s food.”

“You know me well,” Steve said, voice fond. 

“Yeah well last time you decimated my emergency stash of chocolate. I’m not making that mistake again.”

“See you then.”

“Later, Rogers.”

Steve sat for a moment, fingers steepled in front of his face as he stared up at the ceiling of his flat, lost in thought, before picking up the phone to call Natasha. He’d already set the wheels in motion, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use some reassurance from a friend. Natasha, as usual, just made fun of him the entire conversation, since she was apparently literally incapable of actually saying anything nice, and after hanging up on her, he called Sam for some real reassurance. Sam also made fun of him, but that was beside the point. At least he had some helpful things to say alongside the mocking.

“So,” Khalida said, pen tapping a staccato beat against the notepad sitting on the desk in front of her, “what’ll it be this time Rogers? Want to make a statement about sex work? Gun control? Welfare discrimination? Ferguson?” She furrowed her brow, pretending to be thinking really hard. “I think you’ve covered pretty much every other subject that makes Republicans want to shoot you”. Steve laughed, though he was worried it came out a bit more high-pitch and nervous than he’d like. 

“Um, actually, I got a question this morning about marriage equality?” Steve paused, brow furrowing, “But I do want to talk about those other things, lets come back to those later.” Khalida raised a single eyebrow, voice as dry as the desert.

“Of course you do. But you got a message about gay marriage? And you didn’t answer it? How kind.” Steve shook his head.

“No, um…” Khalida shifted her stance, leaning forward in concern. She’d never seen Steve at such a loss. The man (literally) had something to say about every topic on the planet. 

“Do you not approve?” She wasn’t sure how that could be the case, after that interview with the transphobic host she had been kind of operating on the assumption that Steve was the kind of person who simply accepted all people, full stop. “I know when you grew up, it was different, illegal even–” 

“No, nothing like that.” Steve took a deep breath, “Its just, its not the first time I’ve gotten that question, and I feel like I’m being disingenuous by ignoring it, and I’m not helping anyone, when I could help so many…” Steve trailed off, falling silent, and Khalida waved her pen towards him, urging him to continue. He raised his eyes from where they’d been fixed on the desk, and visibly settled himself. When he next spoke, it was with his usual self-assured confidence. “I want to come out. As bisexual.” 

Khalida froze, completely nonplussed. She had to say, she had not seen that coming. 

“Um, right. Okay. Well.” She trailed off, uncertain. “Um, why?”

“Because it would help so many young people, to see that Captain America is queer. Because it is important that everyone knows that they are loved, and important, and equal.” Steve’s voice became slightly defensive. “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t?”

“Besides the media shitstorm? No. And lord knows that’s never stopped you before.” As Steve began to frown, Khalida waved her pen at him. “Not that that’s a problem. I only ask because, well...you don’t want to come out because you’re in a relationship?” At that, Steve looked down again.

“No, not in a relationship…” he raised his head, “Just want to do the right thing.”

“Don’t you always?” Khalida replied, voice wry. “Okay, that makes it a bit easier, to be honest, because we don’t have to factor anyone else’s reactions or safety or smart mouth into the equation. Lets be honest, you’re enough of a problem.” Steve snorted. “Lets talk strategy.”

They made a plan. It was a great plan. It involved an appearance on Ellen (because, Khalida explained, everyone loved Ellen, she was America’s favourite lesbian) and a spread in some magazine (possibly People, but Khalida would have to see what she could negotiate). Of course, Steve had never seen an episode of The Ellen DeGeneres Show before, so their strategizing session took a detour onto YouTube for a bit before getting back on track. The point is, they had a plan. And it was a solid one, with Steve maintaining control over the narrative, and a pre-written press release to be disseminated after the episode aired. It was going to be the most organized and tightly controlled coming out narrative ever, if Khalida had anything to do with it.

So of course Steve had to go and blow it all to hell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains a slur and a brief scene of violence towards a transgender person.

It was such a beautiful day. Blue sky, warm breeze, the perfect day for a run. So Steve headed out of his apartment for a jog (not that he called it that within Sam’s hearing, since that always provoked a very angry “don’t you dare fucking call it a jog Steve, you bastard, ‘on your left’ my ass” from his friend). He was just completing his first lap of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool when he spotted the crowd beginning to form at the base of the Washington Monument. He didn’t think much of it, but on the fifth lap he began to see signs being hoisted aloft and it was clear that some sort of organized protest was beginning. Khalida had accused him in the past of stalking out the National Mall for just this reason, an accusation he was, frankly, hurt and shocked by. 

It was true, but still. 

It was _also_ a lovely spot for a run. 

By the end of his tenth lap he could hear slogans being chanted, and the crowd had swelled. It also seemed to be firmly divided into two separate groups, who were doing a fair amount of shouting at the other. 

Honestly, how was Steve supposed to resist going over to investigate? It was looking pretty heated, he had a duty to ensure the peace was being kept. 

At least, that’s what he told Khalida later, at the end of a very long rant that involved her threatening to quit four times, and speculating about whether or not people would blame her for murdering Captain America. 

She wasn’t particularly satisfied with this explanation. 

The original, and larger group of protesters, it turned out, were there rallying for federal equality for all LGBTQA+ persons, including marriage rights and anti-discrimination laws. Their opponents didn’t seem to have planned ahead of time to be there, and didn’t have as many signs, though their ranks were swelling as news crews arrived and began broadcasting the event out to the general populence. 

At first, Steve hung back, a voice that sounded a lot like Khalida in the back of his head telling him to stay out of it. But that voice didn’t really stand a chance against the tiny, angry punk that still lived inside him. 

After all, he had never tolerated a bully. 

So he went up to some of the organizers, who were still hanging at the back of the crowd, handing out signs and flags to latecomers. 

“Excuse me, sir?” The boy who looked up at him had a mop of neon purple hair, several lip piercings (and wow, Steve still wasn’t used to seeing those), and a violently pink shirt that declared ‘Not Gay as in Happy, Queer as in Fuck You’. The boy’s eyes scanned Steve with practiced disinterest.

“Hey man, you want a sign or–” the boy trailed off, eyes widening. “Omigod,” he said, voice at least an octave higher that it was previously. “You’re Captain America. Omigod.” He turned and shouted at someone behind him. “Sarah!” He turned back to Steve, looking up at him with glee. “I can’t believe you’re here, omigod.” A girl with long blond hair, huge hooped earrings, and a skirt so tiny that Steve had to look away, blushing, ran up behind the boy. 

“What the fuck Zeke you made me screw up my sign.” She said to the boy, Zeke, before looking up at Steve and unknowingly mimicking her friend’s earlier reaction. “Holy fucking sweet baby Jesus.” Well, kind of mimicking. “You’re Captain fucking America oh my fucking god.” Steve let the smile that had been twitching at his lips bloom into a full-out grin. “Oh fuck I just swore at you. Shit. I mean…” She trailed off helplessly.

“Nice to meet you ma’am.” (‘Ma’am’, she repeated – squeaked – under her breath). “I was wondering if I might be able to get one of those signs from you?”

“Holy shit,” she breathed, “You want to join the rally?”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve replied, voice serious. She turned to her friend, nudging him viciously in the ribs.

“Zeke,” she hissed, “where are your manners, go get Captain America a sign goddammit,” but as the boy moved to run off, she yanked him back, turning back to Steve, visibly flustered, “I mean, if you want… I mean, what kind of sign do you want? We can make you one specifically?” 

“What ones do you have?” Steve asked, and smiled again as Sarah set off around the other organizers, leading him to where a variety of signs were leaning up against a stack of flats of water bottles, dragging a still-stunned Zeke behind her. Flipping through the signs, Steve passed over the more… colourful ones, finally pulling out one that simply read ‘Equality for all people’. He paused before settling on it though, turning to Sarah and Zeke who were watching him eagerly, and hesitantly asked if he could actually have a blank sign after all. Sarah took him to where she had been earlier, where a range of spray paint cans and blank signs littered the ground. Surveying his options, Steve grabbed out red and blue, spraying out a rough approximation of his shield, waiting a moment before spraying the same slogan across it. Turning it to Sarah and Zeke to get their reactions, he was met with enthusiastic approval (at least he thought Zeke’s fervent _dude_ was approval; he was less uncertain about Sarah’s loud _fucking badass man_ ). 

Bidding the two goodbye, he joined the crowd that had swelled even more during his interaction with the teens, to the point that he could barely see the opposing group from his position at the back of the crowd, though he could still catch pieces of their chants and shouted slurs. 

Steve wasn’t aiming to end up front and center, but as the people around him recognized him, and whispers spread through the crowd, he found himself inexorably drawn through the crowd to the barriers that enforced the narrow passage between the rally and its detractors. He could tell that some of the opposing protesters had begun to recognize him, as well as the press gathered around the fringes of the two groups, but the area between the barriers remained no-mans-land as police stopped the reporters from filling the gap. So, despite being front and centre of the crowd, Steve was still spared an onslaught of press. 

As the crowd around and across from him continued to swell, increasing in volume as they did so (some of the chants he caught included ‘gay, straight, black, white, marriage is a civil right!’, ‘hey hey, ho ho, homophobia’s got to go’, and ‘two, four, six, eight, how do you know your kids are straight?’) Steve felt a tug on his sleeve and looked over to see Sarah and Zeke grinning at him, clearly sweaty from having shoved their way through the massive crowd after him. Giving them a grin of acknowledgement, Steve turned back to face the opposing crowd with them, picking up on the chant the people nearest them were currently shouting (‘one, two, three, four, open up the closet door’). 

It didn’t take long before Steve began to notice a change in the atmosphere, an increase in tension that was almost palpable as the two groups became louder and louder. However, before he could decide what to do (if there was even anything he could do – he could see the police on the sidelines beginning to shift nervously, and knew that they had also sensed the escalation), a lull in the noise allowed him to catch, quite clearly, the words of one man opposite him. 

“Tranny scum!” He saw Sarah flinch out of the corner of his eye, and was turning to check if she was okay when he caught movement from across the barrier and, acting on instinct, he dropped his sign and turned his back to the opposing crowd, grabbing Zeke and Sarah as he did so and putting his body between them and the protestors. He felt the bottle shatter against his back, and a wave of silence spread through those nearest in the crowd who had seen it hit. Before he could do more than half turn his head to see if it was the same man who had spoken who had thrown the bottle however, a massive roar of sound smashed over him, and as he was pressed forwards against the barriers, he realized that the crowd was about to get out of control. The sound of police whistles and shouting over megaphones began to ring out as people on both sides began pushing through the barriers to meet in the middle. 

Helpless in the face of such a large crowd where he could not use his strength to stop them, Steve left the police to do their jobs, freverently hoping that no one was about to get hurt. He kept his arms securely around Sarah and Zeke as he used his mass and strength to push against the tide of people, moving himself and the teens out of the crush. When they finally emerged, Steve did a quick assessment of Sarah and Zeke, and finding them whole, looked back at the crowd. He sighed in relief as he saw that the police had managed to get the situation back under control, and were now lining the space separating the two groups, and appeared to be attempting to make that space larger by forcing both crowds to back up. Reassured that a riot wasn’t about to break out, he turned back to the teenagers, opening his mouth to ask Sarah if she was alright, when suddenly a microphone was shoved in his face, followed quickly by the face of the reporter holding it. 

“Captain! It was an unexpected pleasure, seeing you at the rally here today! Why didn’t the organizers announce to the media that you would be attending?” Steve suppressed his sigh, putting on his best serious, Captain America face. 

“They didn’t know ma’am, I just happened to be out for a run and thought I should join in.” 

“You do seem to make a habit of that.” The reporter smiled at him, and Steve smiled back. 

“I don’t mean to. It upsets my PR manager.” The reporter laughed. 

“I bet it does. So, Captain, you’ve made your stance on various human rights issues clear in the past, is this another instance of this?” 

“Yes ma’am. But I have to say, while I think marriage equality is an important part of integrating equality for all people into the fabric of our society, it is only part of what needs to be done.” The reporter nodded. 

“So what else do you think needs to be done?” 

“Anti-discrimination and hate crime laws need to be recognized federally alongside marriage equality. Violence, suicide, and murder all disproportionately affect the gay community, especially transgender people.” 

“Thank you for your time Captain.” 

“No problem.” Steve smiled, that had been one of the better interview- 

“Captain! Captain!” He sighed as two more reporters came running up to him, camera people trailing behind. He spared a look around, and was happy to see Sarah and Zeke now talking to the friendly reporter, out of the firing line of the new ones. 

“Captain,” the first one said, out of breath from running over, “does your presence here today mean something?” Steve furrowed his brow, but before he could ask the other man to clarify, the second reporter caught up, shoving her microphone at him and gasping out her question. 

“Captain! Are you worried that the rally here today might dissolve into violence? Is that why you are here?” 

“No ma’am, it is a peaceful protest and I believe the police have the situation under control.” 

“Well then why are you here?” The man questioned, shoving the other reporter slightly to get his microphone closer to Steve. 

“I’m here to support the fight for-” 

“No, I mean, is your being here some sort of statement? Is there something you’ve been hiding from the American public?” Three more reporters had now joined them. 

“I think I’ve made my stance on equality clear in the past. As I was saying, I believe that-” The man interrupted again. Steve had already realized what the man was asking, and was attempting to stall or divert the man’s attention, but he was beginning to suspect that wasn’t going to be possible with this reporter. 

“Captain, I’m asking if you are gay.” Steve’s lips tightened as he sent out a silent apology to Khalida and her carefully outlined plan. Two more reporters arrived as he cleared his throat and began to speak. 

“Actually,” he said, mouth dry, “I’m bisexual.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been to the national mall, so if there's anything inaccurate going on there, we can blame wikipedia.


	3. Chapter 3

Eventually, Steve called Natasha to come pick him up, when it proved impossible for him to escape the crowd of reporters on foot. She didn’t say anything to him during the drive, and Steve was never more thankful for her ability to read people as he stared out the window and went over everything that he’d said again and again. This, more than any other encounter with the media, had left him flustered and unsure. After being dropped off with a simple ‘bye’, Steve found himself alone in his flat. Wandering into his living room, he turned on the TV, but quickly turned it off again when his face filled the screen. Instead, he shut off his phone, turned on his iPod, and pulled out his sketch pad and charcoals (SHIELD had included a refurbished vintage record player in his flat, but he much preferred the iPod dock Natasha had helped him pick out – he had a lot of music to catch up on after all, though various members of the Avengers were determined to help him out with that). For now, he put on a playlist of contemporary indie music that Clint had sent him, and lost himself in his sketching. 

Finally, as the light began to shift from day to late afternoon, Steve set aside his sketch pad with a sigh, stretching his back as he straightened out fo the slump he had sunk into. He reluctantly reached over to his phone, sighing as he heard it turn on. Sure enough, the startup chime was quickly followed by a flurry of other notification noises, telling him he had ten missed calls and eleven text messages. Electing to ignore the calls from Khalida for now, he scrolled through the other messages. 

Khalida 13:12  
Oh fuck you Rogers. 

Clint 13:14  
Damn son. 

Missed Call 13:15  
Tony Stark

Natasha 13:24  
Stark called me when you didn’t answer. You owe me. 

Tony Stark 13:34  
When you’re in New York, I’m throwing you a party. Nice work Rogers. 

Sam 14:15  
Call me if you need to talk. 

Khalida 14:47  
Okay I’ve bumped up Ellen to tomorrow so we can get a handle on this thing fast. I’ve emailed you the details of your flight to LAX - it leaves tonight. 19:23. 

Natasha 15:01  
Stark is planning a massive coming out party. There might be stippers. You’ve been warned. 

Natasha 16:00  
Rogers? Hello?

Thor 16:22  
GLAD TIDINGS MY FRIEND. I HOPE YOU ARE WELL. JANE HAS EXPLAINED TO ME THE IMPORTANCE OF THESE EVENTS. I CONGRATULATE YOU ON THIS MOMENTOUS OCCASION. 

Khalida 16:25  
Call me back Rogers, or I’ll tell Stark you would actually love strippers covered in red, white, and blue body paint. 

Natasha 16:30  
Have you been watching the news? 

Natasha 17:00  
Have you drowned yourself in your sink? Text me back before I have to come over there. Traffic’s a bitch at this time of day. 

Steve smiled at his friends, shooting off quick reassurances to all of them before pulling himself off the couch and heading to his room. He needed to pack and then call Khalida back. He flinched. She was definitely going to be mad. 

He waited until he was in the cab on the way to the airport before he picked up his cell phone and, steeling himself, pressed dial.

“Rogers.” Khalida’s voice was flat. 

“Um…I-” But Steve had barely started to speak before Khalida interrupted him.

“No, you know what Rogers?” And now her voice just sounded tired and resigned, “Honestly, I know that you didn’t mean to do it, and I’m probably going to yell at you later, but right now we need to work on getting a handle on the story. Have you been watching the news at all?”

“No,” Steve confessed, “I’ve been avoiding it.”

“Good call. The conservatives are shocked and outraged of course, but a lot of people are also commending you on your bravery and honesty. So, overall, its going about as good as we can expect it to. It helps that someone posted a video of you protecting those two kids, and the news stations have picked it up. Have I ever mentioned how much I love your compulsive need to help the little guy?” Steve laughed.

‘I thought you hated my compulsive need to help the little guy?”

“Well. Sometimes. I like the principle of it.”

“So whats the plan for Ellen?”

“Well you get along with her really well, so I think we’re going to go for a more unscripted approach, let you improvise your way through it, be yourself. She won’t ask anything controversial, so it should be pretty straightforward. Just explain why you decided to come out, how you came into your sexuality, and definitely cover how difficult it was growing up queer in the 20s and 30s. That’ll really drive home the sympathy angle, which is definitely something we want to work into our narrative.”

“I don’t want to be disingenuous.”

“Trust me Rogers, just tell some of the stories you told me, and half the audience will be crying. Be yourself, tell the truth. At this point, its just about refocusing the story, and telling the whole story. You’ve done the difficult part. After this, its going to be a lot easier.”

“Oh good. I’d hate to think of it getting harder.”

“I’ll email you some pointers to remember, read over them, and we can cover any questions you have left before you go on air. I’ll be getting into LAX just before you, so I’ll wait for you at the airport, and we can ride over together. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. And thanks, Khalida. And I’m sorry.” Khalida sighed. 

“Its okay Rogers. Honestly, at this point, I don’t even know why I’m surprised. You just really can’t help it. I’ll see you later Steve.”

“Later.”

As promised, the interview with Ellen went smoothly. Steve really liked her, and had enjoyed the previous interviews he’d had with her, so there was no pressure, and the conversation flowed smoothly. And, as it turned out, Khalida was right about another thing: his stories about growing up bisexual in the 20s and 30s made the audience cry, and while the conservative news stations (and politicians) continued to throw fits, the overall media narrative was sympathetic and celebratory. There was a significant drop in conservatives name-dropping him to back up their arguments, much to Steve’s delight (of course, after a couple of months it picked up again, but for a while there was a pleasant lull). 

Stark also made good on his promise to throw him a party the next time he was in New York. Steve brought along Sam as his date. Steve had asked Natasha first, but she informed him she was already going with Clint, and suggested he ask Sam instead. Steve wasn’t sure about asking his new friend for such a big favour, but when he had nervously brought it up at the end of one of their runs, Sam had grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Man, the way people are going to react when you show up with a black man? I would pay to see that. I’m in.”

“Are you sure?” Steve had asked nervously, “its going to be a lot of attention and-”

“Hey, I’m running with superheroes now. I’ll deal with the press.”

So, on the night of the party, Steve and Sam pulled up in a black town car (arranged by Khalida), wearing a pair of complementary suits (also arranged by Khalida – ‘don’t even think about arguing with me about this Rogers’), and stepped out onto the red carpet leading up to the doorway of the Tower, where they were instantly blinded by the flash of the press’ cameras. Sam took it well, smiling and waving, with the best of them, while Steve began his normal routine for interacting with the press. He breathed easier, however, once they made it inside and into the elevator, heading up to the penthouse suite where the party was being held. There were photographers scattered throughout the party, of course, but they were much less obtrusive, and there was no shouting of questions. 

Sam nudged Steve once they made it into the elevator. 

“You doing okay there buddy?” Steve nodded and smiled, though it was a bit tight around the edges. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Its just… a lot.” Sam laughed.

“That it is. But hey. This is your party. So relax and enjoy.” He clapped him on the shoulder as the elevator doors opened, and they stepped out into the party, where they were immediately greeted by a very enthusiastic (and fairly drunk) Tony. 

“Steeeeeeeve!” the billionaire shouted, arms thrown wide in welcome, though Steve noticed with some amazement that he somehow managed not to spill a single drop of the scotch held in his hand. “Welcome my friend! Bastion of patriotism! Exemplary example of the male physique!” One of his arms settled around Sam’s shoulders, and the other around Steve’s, despite his attempt to edge away. “I hope you boys are ready to party, because I have plans for tonight. They include, in no particular order, strippers, booze, trying to get Brucey out of his shell–” Tony began to lead them into the party, though Steve stopped listening to him as he looked around for anyone else he knew. 

Khalida was standing by the bar with Pepper Potts and Maria Hill, and Steve smiled to himself. Those three could probably take over the world if they decided to. Thor was hard to miss, looming over the middle of a crowd of people, his voice managing to make itself heard even over the loud music filling the room, and Steve guessed the petite woman standing next to him was the oft-mentioned Jane, and made a note to introduce himself to her at some point during the night. Clint and Natasha were nowhere to be seen, but Steve spotted Bruce standing off to the side by himself, half-tucked behind a potted plant. Disliking the idea of the quiet man feeling uncomfortable or unwelcome, Steve made his excuses to Tony, shooting an apologetic look at Sam before heading over to the scientist. Bruce smiled as Steve drew close to him. 

“Hello Steve.”

“Doctor Banner. Enjoying the party?”

“Yes, quite.” Steve smiled, joining the man in his position surveying the room.

“And yet you are hiding behind a plant?”

“Yes, well,” the quiet man smiled and laughed softly, “Tony tends to get a bit… enthusiastic, so I find it helpful to take a break from the proceedings every once in a while.” Steve laughed.

“Enthusiastic, thats one way to put it.” They stood in silence for a moment, both looking out over the crowd. Tony and Sam had now joined Khalida, Maria, and Pepper at the bar, and Steve stopped feeling guilty for ditching his friend when he saw that he was now good naturedly flirting with Maria. Steve could feel Bruce looking at him, but waited until the scientist spoke to turn back to him. 

“How are you doing Steve?”

“Good, mostly. Relieved.” Steve turned back to the crowd, “Saying it was the hard part. Dealing with the aftermath, well, thats not too different than any other time I’ve said things that people don’t like.” 

“I’m happy for you.” Steve smiled at Bruce. He didn’t know the scientist that well, but what he knew of him, he liked. Before he could reply, however, a waiter came by offering a tray of champagne, but Steve barely noticed that as his attention had been grabbed by the very tight, very short star-spangled shorts that was all the man was wearing. Well, that and body glitter. Bruce smiled and politely declined in lieu of Steve, laughing at the taller man as the waiter walked away. 

“What…” Steve wasn’t even sure what he was asking. 

“Tony.” Bruce offered simply, in explanation. Steve nodded, still slightly stunned. 

“Trust me,” Bruce said, leaning in conspiratorily, “it was going to be worse. Pepper talked him out of a lot of the things he had planned.”

“Thats good,” Steve said faintly. Natasha, of course, choose that moment to pop up at Steve’s elbow. 

“Rogers. Banner.” 

“Natasha.” Bruce nodded towards the spy as Steve smiled at his friend. “I should go and check on Tony before he decides to hunt me down. Excuse me.” Bruce wandered off in the direction of the bar, leaving Steve to turn all of his attention to Natasha.

“So.” he said. “Good party.” Natasha grinned up at him. 

“ _Excellent_ party.” 

“Where’s your date?”

“Clint?” Natasha gestured vaguely towards the floor. “Last I saw, he was dancing with Jane’s intern, Darcy.” Steve spotted the pair, who had cleared a wide circle in the middle of the crowd as they…

“Is that considered dancing?” Natasha laughed.

“No, I don’t think that has ever, or will ever, be considered dancing.”

“I’ve never met Darcy. You said she’s Jane’s intern?” 

“Yup. You’d like her. Clint says she’s like the younger sister he never wanted.” Steve laughed.

“Another Clint? Sounds scary.”

“Terrifying. So, what do you think of the party?”

“Its very… Tony.” Natasha laughed. 

“It is, isn’t it? He’s genuinely happy for you though.” Natasha looked up at him consideringly. “We all are, you know that right?” Steve startled slightly.

“Yeah, yeah I know that.” 

“Good.” Natasha nodded decisively. “Now, what’s a girl gotta do to get a dance from Captain America?” Steve shook his head quickly.

“Oh no, I don’t dance.”

“C’mon. I wanna learn how to jitterbug.”

“I can’t–” but Steve’s protests were lost as Natasha grabbed his arm and dragged him onto the floor next to Clint and Darcy. Laughing and surrounded by his friends, Steve admitted that the party wasn’t as bad as he expected. 

Besides, it was totally worth it to see Tony, dressed in the same outfit as the waiters, singing a dirty version of ‘Star Spangled Man with a Plan’ at the top of his lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the last work in this verse. Then again, I said that last time, and then wrote this.


End file.
